


Descension

by xtremeroswellian



Series: Who I Am, What I'll Become [10]
Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Charles Gunn is sarcastic as hell sometimes, Cordelia's mom is awful, F/M, Gen, Jealousy, Misogyny, Serial Killer, Unhealthy views on weight, petty bickering, threats of murder, threats of rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:42:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23828545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtremeroswellian/pseuds/xtremeroswellian
Summary: Things remain tense between Angel and Cordelia as he keeps having dreams of Darla, and she continues dating Clayton; Kate and Wesley, meanwhile work together to try and solve a homicide case before the killer strikes again.
Relationships: Angel & Cordelia Chase & Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, Angel/Darla, Cordelia Chase/OMC, Kate Lockley & Wesley Wyndam-Pryce
Series: Who I Am, What I'll Become [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1716577
Kudos: 3





	Descension

Kate Lockley read over the file on her desk for what seemed like the hundredth time in the last 24 hours. She sipped her coffee, willing herself to stay awake and focused. She was tense, more so than usual, and with just cause. She was at a loss for leads on the case she'd been working on for the past two weeks.

"Nothing new?"

She looked up at one of her friends on the force, Dan Wakefield, and sighed. "Nothing new. I keep thinking if I just go over this file enough times, maybe I'll spot something I missed."

Dan sat down on her desk and picked up one of the files, studied it for a moment, then shook his head. "I don't think there's anything to spot, because I don't think he's left behind any evidence. It's not your fault, Kate."

"We have to find this guy." Kate stood up and looked down at the file on top of the stack. The photo on top was of the woman's bruised and lifeless body after she'd been attacked. Kate grimaced and reached for her phone. "Can you give me a minute?"

"Sure." Dan slid off her desk and walked away in search of fresh coffee.

She took a deep breath and punched in the phone number, waiting silently.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Angel Investigations. We help the hopeless," Cordelia said as she answered the telephone.

"Cordelia? This is Kate Lockley."

"Oh. Hi. What's up?"

"Actually, I'm hoping you guys might be able to help me."

Cordelia sat forward at her desk and glanced at Wesley, who was watching her with raised eyebrows. "Well, we can try. What's going on?"

There was a short pause. "I'm working on a case. It's not...anything supernatural. At least, I don't think it is. It's a rape and homicide case."

She tensed involuntarily, clutching the pencil in her hand a bit tighter. "Go on."

"It happened just a little over two weeks ago. A woman by the name of Leslie Adams was found in an alley near Moss Street. She was assaulted, beaten pretty badly, and then her throat was slit. We have no description of the guy at all. No fingerprints were found at the scene, no hair or fiber, and apparently he used a condom because no semen was found, either, though it was obvious she'd been raped. I don't suppose you guys have heard anything?" Kate asked hopefully.

Cordelia rubbed her forehead regretfully. "No. I think I read something about it in the newspaper, but that's it. Hang on and let me see if Wesley's heard anything." She covered the mouthpiece with her hand and met Wesley's worried eyes. "It's Kate. She's working a rape-homicide case. No description of the attacker. She was found in an alley by Moss Street about two weeks ago. Heard anything?"

"No, I haven't," he said, frowning deeply.

"He hasn't heard anything either."

"What about Angel?"

Cordelia snorted. "I doubt he even knows Thanksgiving is over. He hasn't been around too much lately."

"I see. Well, do me a favor, and if you hear anything--"

"We'll contact you immediately," Cordelia assured her. "Good luck. I hope you catch the bastard."

"Yeah, me too. Thanks."

Cordelia hung up the phone and tapped her pencil on the notepad, frowning. "She sounded pretty stressed."

"I can imagine," Wesley said quietly. He stood up. "I think perhaps we should pay a visit to the Hyperion. Tell Angel and Gunn and the others what's going on. Have everyone keep their eyes peeled."

She sighed, then stood up. "Yeah. Oh, wait. I have to call Clayton and tell him to pick me up there instead." She scooped up the receiver and quickly dialed a number.

"You're going out again?"

"For lunch," she replied with a smile.

She missed the deepening frown on Wesley's face as she turned away. "Hi, Trudi. It's Cordelia."

"Hi! How's it going?"

"Good. Listen, is Clayton there?"

"He's wrapping up a shoot right now, Cor."

"Oh. Well, can you just give him a message for me? Tell him that I had to go to the Hyperion Hotel for a meeting, and could he pick me up there instead of the office?"

"I'll tell him. Oh, and I probably shouldn't tell you this, but one of the editors at YM saw your photos, and he wants to meet you!"

Cordelia's eyes widened. "You're kidding me! YM?"

"You didn't hear it from me. Clayton wants to give you the good news in person," Trudi said, dropping her voice.

"My lips are sealed! Thanks, Trudi, you just made my day!"

"Talk to you soon."

Cordelia squealed as she hung up the phone. "Wesley! One of the editors from YM is interested in me for their magazine!"

Wesley smiled slightly. "Congratulations." He offered her his arm and she accepted it as they headed out the door.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Angel rubbed his eyes and took a big gulp of the coffee he'd fixed. Much to his chagrin, Wesley and Cordelia had woken him from a wonderful dream about Darla. He pushed aside the thought of her for the moment. He glanced at Wesley, and then at Cordelia as the former-Watcher told him about the killer Kate was looking for. "I haven't heard anything," he said as Wesley finished.

"Kind of hard to hear anything when you never come out of your room," Cordelia muttered as she stood up.

"I'm working here. You guys have the office covered," Angel said tensely.

"Working. Is that what they call sleep these days?" she retorted. "Cause if so, I guess I don't have insomnia after all."

"Well, maybe--" he started.

"Cordelia, Angel. Stop it," Wesley interjected. He glared at them both, and Angel shut his mouth. "I don't know what's gotten into the two of you lately, but this little feud you have going must stop immediately."

Angel sat back in his chair and took another drink of coffee.

Cordelia folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the front desk. "So where's Gunn, anyway?"

"Did I hear someone say my name?" Gunn walked through the front door at that moment. "Please tell me there's evil somewhere that needs killin', because I am so bored right now I'm considering locking myself in my room and not coming out for the rest of the week. Oh, wait. Someone here already does that."

Angel shot him a look, and Cordelia smirked.

"Apparently there's a homicidal rapist on the loose," Wesley told the younger man grimly.

Gunn's face immediately turned serious. "So give me the rundown."

Wesley glanced at Cordelia, then sighed. "There's not much to rundown, I'm afraid. Detective Lockley contacted us earlier. It's her case."

Cordelia quickly filled him in on what few details they had.

"I think one of us should go to the police station and talk to Detective Lockley in person." Wesley glanced at Angel. "And since it's daylight, that leaves you out."

Angel started to say something, but stopped as an unfamiliar man walked into the lobby. He was tall, with dark brown hair and blue eyes, and he was wearing an expensive suit.

"Clayton!"

He was surprised when Cordelia walked over to him and the man kissed her on the lips.

"Cordelia, you're looking lovely as usual," the man said, smiling at her.

Angel narrowed his eyes. "And you are--?"

Clayton looked startled for a moment, then smiled at him. "Clayton Gilman." He extended his hand to Angel, but Angel ignored it.

Cordelia glared at him briefly before turning to smile at Clayton. "This is my boss. Angel."

"Ah, yes. The investigator. It's good to finally meet. How's business lately?"

"Fine," he answered tersely.

"And you remember Wesley?"

"Oh, of course." He shook Wesley's hand. "Good to see you again."

"And this is Charles Gunn," Cordelia added.

Gunn nodded at him. "Hey."

"Nice to meet you, Charles." Clayton turned his full attention to Cordelia. "Are you ready to go to lunch?"

"Yes. Can I have just a moment with my associates? If you don't mind."

"Oh, no. Go right ahead." Clayton moved away from the group and Cordelia turned to face them.

"I'm going to lunch now. Thanks for being so civil," she said sarcastically, her eyes meeting Angel's. She turned to Wesley. "I have my pager with me, so if you need me--"

He nodded. "Have a nice lunch. Good luck," Wesley added quietly.

Angel frowned as he watched Cordelia turn and walk out of the hotel with Clayton. "Are they dating?"

Wesley raised an eyebrow. "Have been for a couple of weeks."

"What do we know about this guy?"

"He's clean, Angel. I did a background check on him the night she told me about him," he informed him.

"What does he do?"

"He's a fashion photographer."

Angel rolled his eyes. "Another one? One disaster wasn't enough for her?"

Wesley frowned at him with disapproval in his eyes. "Angel, I would suggest that you didn't point out that fact to Cordelia. She seems to genuinely like Mr. Gilman. And it's not as though it effects you at all, anyway."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

"Just that Cordelia is entitled to a life of her own. She works for you, though with the way you've been treating her lately, I wouldn't be surprised if she began exploring other avenues of income."

Gunn raised an eyebrow. "What avenues are we talking about?"

Angel and Wesley both glared at him.

"Sorry."

"Are you telling me she's looking for another job?" Angel asked carefully.

"No. I'm telling you that in all probability, she's already found one. You did hear the part where I told you that Mr. Gilman is a fashion photographer?"

Angel nodded.

"It seems that Cordelia's given up on acting and has decided to try a hand at the modeling field."

"Cordelia? A model?" Angel looked at him doubtfully.

"It's not really that hard to imagine," Gunn pointed out.

He frowned and stared at the front door, as though expecting her to walk back any minute.

"Anyway, let's get back to business." Wesley looked at Gunn, who held up his hands and shook his head.

"I don't talk to cops. You're on your own with that part."

"Right. So then, I'll talk to Detective Lockley, and you will..." His voice trailed off and he glanced at Angel and then Gunn. "Do whatever it is you do." He headed for the door.

Angel barely heard him. "I need to think," he announced. He walked towards the stairs.

"See ya next week," Gunn said sarcastically.

Angel didn't even turn around.

* * *

_Angel groaned as Darla suckled on his neck._

_"You're tense, Angelus. What's the matter?" She pulled away and gazed down at him with inquisitive blue eyes._

_"Nothing," he responded automatically. "Nothing's the matter."_

_She frowned. "Why are you keeping things from me? I know you better than anyone. I know when something's wrong. Tell me what it is."_

_He hesitated. "It's just work stuff."_

_"Really? It's not the Slayer?" Darla asked, turning her head to one side._

_"The Sl...Buffy? No," Angel answered in confusion. "It's not Buffy."_

_Darla leaned forward and placed both of her hands on his cheeks. "No. It's not the Slayer, is it? It's something else. Someone else."_

_Angel swallowed hard and denied it again, all though he wasn't sure why. "There is no one else. You're the only one who matters."_

_Darla smiled and he relaxed slightly. She leaned down and kissed him again, her tongue slipping into his mouth. "And even if I'm not, I'll make you forget about everyone else," she said breathily._

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cordelia stirred her ice tea, frowning. "I'm sorry my boss was so rude."

"It's not a problem, Cor. Everyone has bad days," Clayton assured her as they sat at a window seat at the French restaurant he had taken her to for lunch.

"Yeah, well, make that a bad month." She sighed. "I don't know what his problem is lately."

He patted her hand. "I'm sure it will all work out." He smiled. "And speaking of working out, I have good news for you."

Cordelia stared at him and pretended not to know what he was about to say.

"Ed Jordan, one of the editors at YM, is interested in having you model for them."

"YM? Really?"

Clayton nodded. "He wants to meet you as soon as possible. Of course..." His voice trailed off and he hesitated.

Cordelia frowned. "What is it?"

"This isn't my idea. But Ed suggested that since the camera adds ten pounds, perhaps it would be a good idea if you lost ten pounds so you can look in photos how you look in person."

The smile froze on her face. "Of course. No problem."

"It isn't my idea, Cor. I think you're beautiful the way you are." He took her hand and pressed it against his lips.

"It's really no big deal. I've been meaning to increase my morning workout, anyway," Cordelia said with a shrug. What's ten pounds, anyway? It won't be that difficult, she thought.

He shook his head, his blue eyes twinkling. "You're an amazing woman, Cordelia Chase. What did I do to deserve you?"

She smiled softly. "Thanks for saying that."

Clayton leaned across the table and lowered his voice. "I have an event I have to attend tonight. It's a party of sorts. A lot of models and fashion big wigs will be there. Would you come with me? I could introduce you to some people."

"I'd love to."

He smiled.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wesley glanced around the crowded police station uncertainly, until he spotted the blond detective sitting at her desk in her office. He took a deep breath, walked over, and knocked on her office door. "Detective Lockley?"

She looked up and her face registered surprise. "Hi."

"I--I came here to offer my assistance on the case."

"Oh. You aren't busy?"

"No. Things are a bit slow right now," Wesley admitted.

"Well, I could use all the help I can get." She motioned for him to shut the door, and he did so quickly. Wesley sat down in the chair across from her desk and she handed him a file. "This is the file we have. There's not much there, I'm afraid."

He nodded and then hesitated. "My being here won't get you into trouble, will it?"

Kate almost smiled. "It's not exactly protocol, but I haven't followed protocol for quite awhile now," she said pointedly.

Wesley smiled and then pulled out a photograph from the file. "Good Lord," he muttered, the smile immediately dissolving as he stared down at the photo in horror.

"It's pretty awful. One of the worst murder cases I've seen," she said grimly.

"Especially considering some human did this," he said in agreement, grimacing at the sight of the blood covering the woman's naked body. The knife wound in her throat was a jagged cut, like the killer had been trying to make her death as painful as possible.

"She was also stabbed sixteen times."

Wesley looked up, startled. "Cordelia didn't say anything about--"

"I didn't tell her. After the incident at the warehouse a few weeks ago, I didn't want to make her relive that experience," Kate said quietly.

He glanced back down at the photo and shuddered at the memory. Cordelia had been abducted by Wolfram and Hart and a shape-shifting alien named Nasedo, who had wound up stabbing her to death in front of Angel and Liz Parker. Another alien, Max Evans, had healed her and saved her life. Kate had shot and killed Nasedo. Wesley hadn't been in the warehouse when it happened, but he remembered seeing Cordelia when she walked out of the place, blood soaking her clothes, and Angel's, as well.

"Yes...thank you. That was considerate of you," Wesley told the detective sincerely.

Kate nodded.

Wesley continued studying the file, and began to read the case report. "Nothing turned up on the toxicology screening...official cause of death was blood loss due to severe stab wounds in the abdomen and chest, and a deep laceration across the throat..." He frowned deeply. "Identified by her dental records." He looked up at Kate. "No family?"

"She had family. She lived with her sister and brother-in-law. But her sister said that the girl was known for taking off for a few days at a time, so when she didn't come home that night--"

"They didn't think anything about it," Wesley finished.

"Right."

He leaned back in the chair and started to re-read the report. It was going to be a long day, and they had their work cut out for them.

* * *

Cordelia returned to the office a little later than she'd planned. Not that it mattered, since Wesley wasn't back from talking to Detective Lockley, and there were no messages on the answering machine. She sighed and dropped down into her desk chair.

Great. Another afternoon of boredom. Just what she needed.

She logged onto the Internet and began checking out some Hollywood entertainment sites she visited every so often. When the telephone rang, she nearly jumped out of her chair she was so startled. She quickly grabbed the receiver. "Angel Investigations. We help the hopeless."

"Cordelia?"

She sat forward, her eyes widening. "Mom?"

"Hello, dear."

"Where are you?"

"Oh, don't worry. We're in a secure location. You're still with that detective agency?"

Even over the phone, Cordelia could picture her mother's look of distaste--her nose would be wrinkled up, but only for a moment until she remembered that frowning would cause her wrinkles. "I'm still with Angel Investigations, yes."

Her mother sighed. "Well, I guess you do what you have to do to get by."

She shifted in her chair uncomfortably and didn't say anything.

"How's the acting going?"

Cordelia hesitated. "It's not anymore. But," she added quickly, "It looks like I'm going to hit it big in the modeling department."

"Modeling? How wonderful! And especially after that whole homecoming fiasco your senior year."

She cringed. Her parents had pushed for her to run for homecoming queen, and when she hadn't won...they'd been disappointed, to say the least. And apparently still were. "Yes, well, have you heard of Clayton Gilman?"

"Oh, of course. The fashion photographer," her mother said excitedly.

"We're dating."

"You're dating Clayton Gilman? Oh, Cordelia, that's fabulous news! Is it serious?"

Cordelia smiled for the first time since Clayton dropped her off from lunch. "Well, I like him. A lot," she confessed. "He's a really sweet guy, and he's a gentleman."

"And he's loaded with money," her mother added quickly.

Her smile faded a bit. "Yes, he is."

"How long have you two been seeing each other?"

"Just a couple weeks."

"But it's going well? Have the two of you...you know?"

"Mom!" Cordelia exclaimed, shocked.

"Well, it's a valid question, dear."

"It's a very personal question."

"I'm your mother," she reminded her.

Cordelia sighed. "Yes, it's going well. And no, we haven't."

"Well, why not?"

She hesitated. _Well, Mom, you see, the last guy I slept with impregnated me with 7 demon babies. I guess that could be why I'm taking it really slowly this time._ She shuddered involuntarily at the memory. "We're just getting to know each other," she answered finally.

"How many dates have you been out on?" her mother demanded.

"I don't know," she responded. She'd gone out with him nearly every afternoon for lunch, and several evenings for dinner.

"That means it's been too many to keep track of," her mother stated. "So, are you planning on sleeping with him?"

Cordelia just remained silent, feeling totally invaded of her privacy. She massaged her temples gently as she felt a headache coming on.

"Cordelia, dear, I'm just concerned about your well being. You know, if you were to marry this gentleman, your father and I could have a chance at returning to California."

She resisted the urge to make a snippy remark about how her mother didn't care about Cordelia's welfare at all but just her own. "I don't think marriage is anywhere in the near future, Mom," she said instead. Nowhere in the near future, she thought.

Her mother sighed again. "Right. Of course not. What was I thinking?"

There was a hint of bitter sarcasm in her tone, and Cordelia suddenly felt like hanging up. When she caught sight of Angel standing in the door frame, her heart jumped slightly. "Mom, I have to go."

"But I haven't had time to tell you about--"

"Next time. There's a customer," she lied, turning away from Angel's stare. "Bye, Mom. Tell Daddy I said hi and I love him."

"Of course."

Cordelia took a deep breath as she hung up the phone and turned around in her seat to face Angel. "How long have you been standing there?" she asked.

"Long enough," he replied. "Your mom?"

She nodded, but remained silent, her muscles tense as she prepared herself for the argument she was sure they were about to have.

But Angel didn't say anything. He simply walked over to his desk and sat down.

Cordelia watched him as he picked up a book and began to read. As the minutes ticked by, she felt more nervous and on edge than she had in a long time. She wasn't sure which was worse: being totally bored and alone in the office, being bombarded with personal questions from her mother, or having Angel sitting a few feet away from her and not saying a word to her.

She stared at her desk, feeling suddenly as though she was about to cry and fighting it as hard as she could.

"You're not sleeping."

She glanced at him, surprised. It had been a statement, not a question. "Not a lot, no."

Angel looked up from his book, his dark eyes searching her own hazel ones. "Are you okay?"

Cordelia wanted to tell him. She wanted to tell him about the nightmares she'd been having when she actually did sleep; about how every time she closed her eyes, Nasedo was there, or Buffy was there, telling her she didn't belong and that she was a waste of space. And a few weeks ago, she might have been able to tell him those things, and he would have been concerned, and encouraged her to talk to him about the dreams, but now...

Now they were barely speaking at all, and most of the time when they did, it wasn't civil conversation. So she couldn't tell him. She wouldn't tell him. She could handle it on her own. She was a big girl and she didn't need someone to chase away her nightmares for her, even if that was actually possible.

"I'm fine," she responded flatly.

"Okay," he answered, and returned his gaze to his book.

Cordelia bit her lip, remembering how exactly two weeks ago today he'd suggested she didn't work for him anymore. Again, Buffy's words returned to her. _"I'm sure Angel only keeps you around out of pity..."_

Maybe Buffy was right. Maybe that's why Angel was acting so distant and weird lately. Maybe it was because of her.

Well, screw Buffy. Screw Angel.

She didn't need anyone's pity.

Cordelia stood up abruptly. "I'm going home," she said, her voice low. She grabbed her purse and left without waiting for a response.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wesley stared at the photo as his elbows rested on Kate's desk. "There's something that bothers me about this case."

"You mean other than the fact that the victim was brutally slaughtered almost beyond recognition?"

He looked up. "It's just...it was a very violent murder." When she gave him a look that clearly stated how obvious that already was, he quickly went on. "I mean, most killers aren't this violent for their first murder. In fact, it's highly unusual."

Kate frowned, staring at him. "You think he's killed before."

"I think perhaps it's worth checking into," he told her.

She nodded and quickly began typing into her computer. "I don't remember any recent murder cases that resemble this one around here."

"Well, maybe we should be looking into other parts of the state."

"Good point. Ted Bundy murdered women in four states before they caught him."

Wesley grimaced at the thought. "May I use your phone? I'd like to call an acquaintance of mine that lives a couple hours north of here."

"Be my guest."

He picked up the receiver and dialed the number for the Magic Box. On the third ring, he heard a familiar voice say, "Magic Box. How can I help you?"

"Willow? This is Wesley."

"Oh. Hi! How are you?"

"I'm fine. Actually, I was hoping that you would be there."

"Did your computer crash?"

"Um...no. No, it's all right. I need some help doing a bit of research."

"Uh-oh," Willow said, worry creeping into her voice. "Is it the end of the world again?"

"No..."

"What kind of demon are you trying to find out how to kill?"

"Not a demon." Wesley glanced at Kate, who had one eyebrow raised. "A human."

"You're wanting to know how to kill a human?" she asked in confusion.

"No, no," he said, feeling a bit impatient. "There was a brutal murder here a couple weeks ago. I'm working with Detective Lockley. We're trying to determine if this was the killer's first victim."

"What's his name?"

"We don't know. I was hoping you could use some of your computer skills and find out if there are any similar killings in surrounding cities or states." He quickly filled her in on the details.

"I'll see what I can come up with," Willow promised.

"Thank you, Willow." They hung up.

Kate gave him a questioning look.

"Don't worry. She's trustworthy, and she knows what she's doing," Wesley assured her.

"She's from Sunnydale?"

It was his turn to look puzzled.

"Cordelia filled me in on some things," Kate said with a shrug.

"I see." That surprised him somewhat. "Well, yes. She lives in Sunnydale."

"So she probably knows all kinds of things about demons and vampires, right? I mean, seeing how Sunnydale is on a Hellmouth and all."

"Yes. She's pretty much an expert at research, especially if it has to do with computers."

"And of course, you probably know that I don't have access to other police department files other than this one without having to go through a lot of red tape," Kate continued. "So you asked a hacker to help us out." She raised an eyebrow and looked at him. "Which, you must realize, is illegal."

Wesley shifted uncomfortably. "Detective Lockley, you said yourself that you rarely follow protocol anymore anyway."

"I did say that, didn't I?" She turned back to her computer screen.

A slight smile formed on his lips.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cordelia sighed as she went through her closet again. She didn't have *any* dresses that were up to date. Her most recent dress purchase had been about eight months ago. She hadn't really needed any fancy ones because...where was she going to wear them to anyway? The office? Demon slaying?

"I think not," she mumbled aloud. She frowned. "Dennis, what now? I don't have any money to go shopping. At least not if I'm going to pay the rent this month."

She wondered what Wesley had found out from Kate. She thought about calling the office to see if he was there yet, but she didn't want to take the chance of Angel answering the phone. She walked over to her stereo and turned on the radio.

_And if you're trying  
To cut me down  
You know that I might bleed  
Cause if you're trying  
To cut me down  
I know that you'll succeed  
And if you want to hurt me  
There's nothing left to fear  
Cause if you want to hurt me  
You're doing really well, my dear_

She let out a short, bitter laugh at the mere irony of the lyrics. The tears that stung her eyes came about suddenly and she was caught off guard and unable to stop one from rolling down her cheek. She brushed it away in anger.

Stop thinking about the broody vampire, she commanded herself. He doesn't need you and he obviously doesn't want you there. Get over it. It's not like it's the first time someone hasn't wanted you around. Your own parents didn't even want you.

Cordelia squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out all of the thoughts that that one self-admission brought with it.

Wesley probably doesn't want you around either. They don't really care. They all pity you.

Stop it. Stop thinking. Focus on the party. That's what matters now. You're going to be a famous model who makes lots of money. Think of all the dresses you can afford then.

She would show them all. She didn't need anyone's pity. She didn't need anyone at all.

She opened her eyes and glanced at the two dresses she had laid out on the bed. "Okay, Dennis. Which one?" She held up the short black one in one hand and the ankle-length red, silk dress in her other hand. Dennis took the red dress from her hand and it hovered in front of her. "Red it is, then."

Cordelia held the dress up in front of her and stared in the mirror for a long time.

* * *

"Cordelia, you look beautiful!" Trudi said with a wide smile as Cordelia and Clayton walked into the Jaded Mirror later that evening.

Cordelia returned the smile. "Thanks."

Clayton looked down at her, his eyes warm. "She always looks beautiful, Trudi." He kissed her on the cheek and then straightened up. "Well, are we ready?"

"Ready," the girls said in unison.

Cordelia held onto Clayton's arm and allowed him to lead her into the main room. Her eyes widened in appreciation as she noticed dozens of red and white roses in vases around the club. Waiters in tuxedos stood around holding silver platters of celery and carrot sticks and pouring bottles of champagne for a crowd of elegantly dressed men and women. Classical music was playing on the stereo system behind the bar.

Little bubbles of excitement began to build up inside of her. It had been so long since she'd been to an elegant party. David Nabitt's parties were always nice, but this...this was the kind of party her parents always used to throw.

Clayton guided her over to the crowd that was standing in the center of the room.

A tall, slender blond woman wearing a strapless, satin white dress turned and smiled broadly. "Clayton!" She kissed the air on both sides of his face. "So glad you could make it!"

He smiled at her. "I wouldn't have missed it. Crystal, you look ravishing."

She tossed her long blond hair over her shoulder. "As always," she agreed. She turned her gaze to Cordelia. "Who's your friend?"

"Crystal, this is Cordelia Chase. Cor, this is Crystal Weaver."

Cordelia reached out to shake her hand, but the other woman looked at her in horror. "I just had my nails done."

"Oh," Cordelia said, embarrassed. "Well, it's nice to meet you."

"Of course it is." Crystal smiled at Clayton. "We simply have to do lunch soon, Clay. We need to discuss our next photo shoot."

"Sure. In fact, how does tomorrow sound?" he asked.

"No, tomorrow I'm flying to New York for that shoot with Claudia and Gwen, remember?"

"Right. Well, then, why don't you have your assistant call Trudi here, and we'll schedule something soon?"

"That sounds lovely," Crystal said, flashing her white teeth as she smiled again.

Cordelia glanced at Trudi, who looked as uncomfortable as Cordelia felt.

"Clayton!" A petite brunette walked up to them. She did the air-kiss to him and then turned to Crystal and did the same thing. "So nice to see you again. How have you been?"

"Well, thank you," Clayton answered pleasantly. "Sondra, this is Cordelia Chase. Cordelia, this is Sondra Mullins."

Sondra gave her the once over, and her lips curled up in disdain. "Nice dress."

Cordelia winced, wishing she'd been able to afford something more up-to-date. She glanced enviously at Sondra's fancy blue velvet dress.

Sondra noticed and spun around to show her the back of the dress. "It's straight from Paris."

"It's pretty," she said wistfully.

Sondra glared at her. "Pretty? This dress cost half a million dollars and all you can say is, 'it's pretty?'" She walked away in a huff.

Clayton patted Cordelia's arm as she stared after the girl in disbelief. "Don't worry about it. She's a bit stressed from all the shows and photo shoots she's been doing lately," he assured her.

She nodded meekly, catching the disapproving look on Crystal's face. "I think I'd like some champagne," she said as she pulled away from him.

"Of course." He started to signal the waiter.

"No, I'll get it. Would you like some?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Oh, Cor, be a doll and get me a glass, too. Thanks," Crystal said sweetly.

Cordelia plastered a huge fake smile on her face. "I'll be right back."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You want some coffee?"

Wesley looked up from the fax machine and saw Kate standing next to him. "Oh, yes, please."

"I thought you might, so I went ahead and brought you a cup." She handed it to him.

"Thank you." He took a sip.

"How's it going?" she asked.

"Well, so far, she's faxed over 30 of the 35 unsolved murder cases from various locations in California that have occurred in the last six months that fit the description we gave her. Of course, there's no way to know for sure if any of them are connected to this one."

"Well, at least it's a starting point."

Wesley nodded, took off his glasses and rubbed his forehead. He'd talked to Willow on the phone three more times since earlier that afternoon, and she'd started sending the faxes about an hour ago.

Kate ran one hand through her hair and picked up an armful of papers. "I'll go ahead and take these back to my office and start going through them."

"All right," he agreed. She left and he looked around. The police station was unusually quiet. A few officers were at their desks doing paperwork, but no one questioned his presence at all.

He suddenly wondered what Cordelia was doing. He didn't like leaving her at the office alone for so long.

Of course, he thought as he glanced at the clock on the wall, she probably went home hours ago. It was nearly 10 p.m.

He sighed wearily and removed the remaining files from the fax machine. Time to get back to work.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cordelia decided that one glass of champagne was enough. She didn't want to get sick since she hadn't eaten dinner before the party. She hung towards the back of the room as the crowd surrounded Clayton, talking and laughing.

"Celery?"

She turned and smiled at a cute waiter that was standing next to her. "Thanks." She picked up a piece of celery and nibbled on it.

"You're welcome." He leaned towards her. "First time?"

"What?"

"At one of these model parties," he clarified.

"Oh. Yes, actually. Is it that obvious?"

"You just seem a little uncomfortable."

Cordelia nodded. "I'm here with Clayton Gilman."

"Oh." The waiter looked a little crestfallen as he moved on.

She sighed.

"So who is she?"

"Probably Clayton's new project."

At the mention of her boyfriend's name, Cordelia pretended to eat the celery while she strained to hear the women standing a few feet away. She recognized one of the voices as Crystal Weaver.

"Honestly. What was he thinking?"

"You know him, Raye. He's got a thing for strays." Crystal sighed heavily, her voice tainted with disgust. "And she had the nerve to insult Sondra!"

She could feel them staring at her and Cordelia suddenly realized they were talking about her. Her face flushed with embarrassment.

"And just look at that dress. So six months ago. I sincerely hope that Clayton comes to his senses," Crystal continued.

"He can't possibly think that cow could ever be like us," Raye said harshly.

Cordelia's eyes flooded with tears but she quickly blinked them back.

"She has nice posture," Crystal said.

"That's the only nice thing she has," Raye replied.

The women laughed.

Cordelia swallowed hard and headed over to the crowd. She found Trudi standing at the edge of the group and she tapped her shoulder lightly.

Trudi turned around. "Hey. I was just wondering where you went."

"Actually, I think I'm going to head home. I'm starting to get a migraine," she lied.

Trudi looked at her in concern. "Should I get Clayton? Have him drive you?"

"No, I don't want to bother him. I could use some fresh air anyway."

"Are you sure? It's after dark and this isn't exactly the safest city in the world. I could call you a cab."

"No, really. It's okay. I've had plenty of self-defense training," Cordelia assured her. She clutched her purse tightly to her shoulder, glad she'd kept the cross and a stake in there. "Can you just tell Clayton I wasn't feeling well, but that I'll talk to him soon?"

"Of course."

"Thanks, Trudi."

"Be careful."

"I will," Cordelia promised. She turned and all but ran for the exit.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The night air was cooler than she'd expected, especially since she hadn't worn a jacket. The streets were pretty much empty as she walked home. She made sure she stayed on the sidewalk and under the street lights, her hand reached into her unzipped purse and ready to grab her vamp-defense tools if needed.

Her shoulders drooped as she stared at the ground. When was it that she had been deemed such a loser? She used to be one of those people who deemed *other* people losers. And even though that had been a long time ago and things had changed since then, she'd never thought of herself as a loser. Somehow she had fallen from being Queen C. to being a big fat nothing.

She didn't belong in Sunnydale with the Scooby Gang. She didn't belong with her parents--wherever they were. She couldn't act or sing, and now she was starting to have serious doubts about modeling. Angel apparently didn't want or need her at Angel Investigations anymore.

She didn't belong anywhere. She was completely alone.

Tears flooded her eyes again and this time she didn't fight them. She trudged slowly down the street, allowing the drops to trickle down her face and splash onto her dress.

The attack came from behind.

She let out a startled cry as she fell to her knees on the rocky pavement. Her purse clattered to the ground and her stake rolled away.

She reached for it, but a large foot came down on her hand. She screamed in pain and ripped her hand away.

Before she could even make a move, an arm wrapped around her waist from behind and she was hauled to her feet. A large gloved hand covered her mouth.

"I've been watching you, Cordelia," a male voice whispered in her ear. "It's time for your descension. We're going to go for a little ride." A second later a huge butcher knife was held out in front of her and she caught a glimpse of her attacker in its silvery reflection. She could see he was wearing a dark ski mask with only eyeholes.

He pressed the knife to her throat and a whimper of fear escaped her as she remembered the feel of a similar knife being plunged into her stomach.

"If you try to escape, I'm going to slit your throat and make you drink your own blood while I'm fucking you," he whispered.

Cordelia blanched as the knife pressed into her skin and he began dragging her down the alley towards the opposite street.

Please let it all be over with quickly, she prayed.


End file.
